


The O-Virus Strain

by MissFantominaHill



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Forced Orgasm, LET'S! LEWD! LEEEOOONNN!, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Pollen, author has not actually played a resi evil game, author wrote this anyway, dubcon, leon could use a new pair of pants, mr x is surprisingly a bit of a gentleman, surprisingly pleasant dubcon though, welcome to this episode of everyone's fav gameshow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23205853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissFantominaHill/pseuds/MissFantominaHill
Summary: Leon Kennedy is not having a very good first day at work. Pants a little too tight, the whole zombie apocalypse thing with a ruthless hulk persistently chasing him, and now a drawer full of some Umbrella Corp experiment labeled 'O-Virus' that's gone straight up his nose and set him sneezing loud enough for Mr. X to hear.He's sure it'll be fine, though... right?
Relationships: Leon S. Kennedy/Mr. X | Tyrant T-00
Comments: 7
Kudos: 349





	The O-Virus Strain

Leon Kennedy was not having a good first day of his new job. In fact, he was pretty sure this was one of the worst first days anyone had ever had in RCPD, if not _the_ worst; certainly within the top ten, Leon thought. It was certainly not the day of filling out forms for HR and awkward introductions he was expecting.

All in all, though, Leon thought he was coping pretty well in scuttling from place to place desperately trying to survive while in a pair of new slacks that weren't quite broken in yet and just a _tad_ too tight. It was actually a rare moment of something approaching calm, and he almost felt like he could relax as he quietly scrambled through what looked to be a small Umbrella Corp. office. No familiar looking papers, nothing interesting - he yanked open a drawer and, to his surprise, spluttered back as powder flew up in his face.

It was musty, whatever it was - and the papers in the drawer were half-spotted with mold. Oh, great. That'd just be his luck. Surviving the zombie apocalypse and then croaking of fungal pneumonia. Fantastic. It stung, almost, tingling in his nose like he'd just sniffed deeply from a tin of cinnamon altoids. There was a definite, but not too terrible, warmth in his throat now, travelling down. What the hell was this office for? He squinted at one of the papers.

'O-Virus'? Wonderful! Another virus! Like one from Umbrella wasn't bad enough!

Leon blinked hard a few times before his eyes watered and - despite his best efforts of trying to smother it in his sleeve, struggling for at least thirty seconds of squeaking and hiccoughing - sneezed. Hard. Most concerningly, _loudly_. He winced - a sneeze loud enough to echo, and surrounded by zombies! Maybe at least it would only be them, and not -

Loud, heavy thudding. Oh. Mr. X.

It seemed like just when he thought he was safe, the lumbering brute always, _always_ showed up, somehow, _somewhere_. And this time he was improbably right outside the door. Leon raised his pistol, squeezing the trigger - one shot went too wide, barely grazing Mr. X's cheek. And then - click. Click, click. Out of bullets. And his shotgun was also out of slugs. And the knife he'd picked up? Left in that last room, to make room for another herb...

Leon gulped.

Mr. X paused, and sniffed delicately - surprisingly so. And then, with uncharacteristic respect for architecture, closed the door firmly behind him. Leon grimaced. It'd be a risky rush, now, but if he could remember his jiu-jitsu and just -

His attempt to get to the door was abruptly stopped by Mr. X neatly putting him in a headlock. But for some reason Leon could tell he was being far more delicate than before. Holding back. It was unnerving being in the grip of a man who he knew could crush him, especially as he was lifted up, kicking desperately for any purchase or lucky strike -

And he was flipped over, hands wrenched behind his back. In one swift move, Mr. X had his arms pinned back behind him, and zip-tied together so that his hands could only uselessly grasp at the air. He kept up a steady stream of cursing, knowing by now that Mr. X wasn't inclined to listen to pleas or reason, or even converse at all. The spores still hung in the air, like dust motes in the low light. He blinked, eyes watering, and as the adrenaline made his heartbeat thud harder in his ears, he noticed the warmth was still there - almost familiar, almost welcome. Moving down his throat and into his core... Was this some plan? Was he infected now, and being taken alive? Was it only a matter of time until -

Leon was broken out of his wondering by the sound of a fly unzipping. Mr. X shoved Leon roughly down to kneel on the floor, and with a broad smile, pulled out his cock. It was just as intimidatingly massive as the rest of the man. Leon balked, some quip almost on his lips - but he was interrupted by Mr. X grabbing two fistfuls of his hair. The wordless man nonetheless made his demands well known. Rough tugging and a cock to gag around.

For a moment Leon thought about biting down hard, or flinching away, but two meaty hands on each side of his head made the consequences very obvious. He still gave an angry grunt even as he tried to deal with the sudden large member in his mouth, thick and already half-turgid. Big - too big - far bigger than anything Leon had ever been prepared to deal with. But dutifully, he tried, even as he awkwardly slurped, trying to keep the drool from going down his chin, unable to even properly swallow. But if he got through this, perhaps he would survive. He needed to survive, to do what was needed - so focus, try to get better suction. That way he could save who he could - so run tongue along the bottom, try to lap at the head. That way he could... he...

His thoughts were getting slow and fuzzy, somehow. The heat that had been in his throat then his belly now seemed to seep into his mind. Feverish, but singular-minded, a quiet simplicity even as he felt himself start to blush. What was happening to him? More importantly, why did he feel like he didn't really care about what was happening to him?

The cock in his mouth stopped being an insult, a degrading thing to endure, and started being... a challenge. The warm fire in his core was starting to spread, scurrying down to soak his thighs and all between them. Slowly, Mr. X's hands started to relax. The grip in his hair became less of a demand, and more of an encouragement. He whimpered at this, a desperate sort of sound as the world pitched and swooned, blood thudding in his ears. Mr. X began to gently stroke his hair, running his fingers through, as he started to shiver.

Leon moaned. The desperate mouthful wasn't something he gagged around anymore. Instead of being too much, it felt like too little - and he looked up. The warmth had become almost an itch, an ache, and it was driving all other thoughts from his mind. What else was there to think about? The deep musk of another man's cock, the fire making him tremble in want, how intoxicating it was to be there pleasuring him - that was enough. That was all that mattered.

He looked up for approval, almost pouting as he gave another moan - slurping, sucking, unashamed now to drool because Mr. X was far too big to properly fit in his mouth. He was panting now, hard huffs through his nose, and his hands - bound behind him - grasped at the air uselessly. Anything, he would give anything to do something with his hands - to run them along his chest, to gently pinch a nipple, or better yet, along Mr. X's broad chest, to cup his balls, to firmly hold the flesh of his ass, anything, anything -

That seemed to be what Mr. X was looking for. He abruptly shoved Leon back, his cock full and erect, throbbing and ready. Leon half-whimpered out a moan as he panted. All he could do is let his mouth hang open desperately in want. Everything else was shivering fire, lighting up his core, driving him mad.

In one smooth motion, Mr. X picked him up - he was unsteady on his feet, thighs already trembling, jelly-legged. A loud rip, and Mr. X had not only split open his slacks, but his underwear as well, too rough to do anything like unbuttoning and pulling them down. The sudden rush of air made him give a surprised moan, but one entirely driven by desperation. Leon's now-freed erection, tip slick with pre-cum, seemed too terribly sensitive to the sudden cold. And on instinct, his hips bucked, desperate to rut anything he could.

And suddenly - hands on his thighs, gripping hard (delightfully hard, wonderfully hard, oh god, the thought of how he'd bruise was driving him mad) - lifting him up, and onto Mr. X's cock. The Umbrella Corp monstrosity was not gentle. It was just as well, because Leon thought he wouldn't have been able to stand it if so. The sudden and abrupt fullness made him howl, but where he was expecting pain - where logically there should have been - there was just more electric-hot pleasure. He let his head fall back, mouth still open in wild panting, too delirious with pleasure to even think of closing it.

Another shift in position, for better leverage, tipping him forward. It managed to free up one of Mr. X's massive hands as he bent Leon halfway over the office chair, and immediately, clamped it onto the base of Leon's cock. Leon sobbed, but not in pain. It was pure and desperate want at being touched, and being so close, but the hard grip was very definitive in its message, as clear and solid as the best cock-ring. Leon would get to finish when Mr. X wanted, and not a moment before.

Then he drew back for the next thrust. It hit Leon so hard that his vision swam. And another, and another - with all the subtlety of an earthquake, every time as good as the first. Keeping silent was utterly useless. Leon's howls of ecstasy echoed down the abandoned corridor as he arched his back, desperate for every millimeter. Each wave of pleasure was all-consuming as it crashed down on him. Each one alone would have been a powerful orgasm on its own - but now, over and over, pushing out all other thoughts. Just pleasure and want. The sound of flesh hitting flesh was almost as loud as his screaming moans.

It seemed like years, yet not long enough. Every thrust was a sweet eternity and all he wanted was more. But finally - finally! - a grunt behind him became a low grumble, and the start of a roar. Mr. X's hand, big enough to almost cover his whole cock in a fist, began pumping up and down. It was the permission he needed, and the last nudge over the edge. He heard Mr. X's loud groan, and felt the warmth filling him, all else dissolved into white-hot pleasure. Back arching, Leon howled breathlessly, thrusting between Mr. X's fist and cock. For a perfect moment all was pleasure. There was room for nothing else. The only thing that barely brought him down to earth again was his own sobbing whimpers as Mr. X continued to milk him, even as the last spurts of cum were long gone, leaving him writhing and overwhelmed.

Utterly spent, Leon went limp, reeling and trembling. Mr. X put him down surprisingly tenderly, shoving off the detritus of the office table before laying him down there. The world pitched and swooned as the aftershocks of such an overwhelming orgasm left him whimpering and moaning. Gingerly, he started to be aware of the cum seeping out of him onto the desk as he lay there trembling - and of how his RCPD shirt was painted white with his own spunk.

...And of how exposed and cold he was, with trousers and underwear now in tatters. The heady warm thrum was finally bleeding away from his senses, with no more cinnamon tingle lighting up his core. Just... a sense of realization of what had just happened.

Leon gulped, finally able to close his mouth and stop panting, and dizzily lifted his head. Mr. X was already at the door, and lifted up his hat with a massive hand as if tipping it in thanks - with a cheeky wink that made Leon suddenly blush hot with embarrassment for being its recipient. He put a hand up to his face, pinky and thumb out, waggling it in the international sign for "call me", before surprisingly politely opening the door. Mr. X gently tossed a pair of scissors, enough to defeat the zip tie keeping Leon's hands tied, into the room before stepping through the door, closing it, and leaving Leon alone.

Jelly-legged and still dizzy, Leon let his head fall back limp with a thud onto the desk. First day on the job, and already, he was needing to find a new uniform... Just his luck...


End file.
